


Novels

by NekoAisu



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/NekoAisu
Summary: Ignis and Noctis finding each other throughout the ages.





	Novels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wrathofscribbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/gifts).



> HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY WRATH I LOVE YOU!!!! being the present-giving gremlin i am, i made you more fic. i hope u like it. im still gonna try for one more >;3c <3 <3 <3
> 
> I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO NOVELS BY RUSTY CLANTON WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkAfDeXXZqU  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/3KJXoIVWOxAmuCt6ccqJ7l?si=9mcip18_RKSvt1itF5gx1A

Ignis is six when he first meets Noctis. He holds his hands with all the care he can muster in his gangly body and promises to stand by him. 

 

He loses Noctis to his father’s sword twenty six years later at the gods’ decree. 

 

Three years later, there’s an orphan with magic in his blood and a weak heart whose eyes are that same disarming, depthless blue left with Iris in Lestallum. He’s two and a half, but  _ quiet.  _

 

A decade later sees Ignis stationed in Accordo with his newfound son in tow. They both die at sea when a rogue wave sweeps them into the endless blue. Ignis clutches Noctis tight as he can until he can’t see, can’t breathe, and his numb hands can’t keep a grip. 

 

They find each other in a hospital, next. Ignis can’t remember a thing, whether from the head wound that stole his sight or as a side effect neither of them know. Noctis tells him that it’s alright, smiling disarmingly and doing his best to ensure his bedside manner is perfect as ever. He dreams of the wash of blue flames and the pain of a sword splitting his ribcage open. He dreams of Ignis holding him, the both of them pushed dozens of feet below the churning waves. 

 

When Ignis is discharged, he sends for a bouquet of Tenebraean sylleblossoms. Noctis never told him that they are his favorite. 

 

They don’t see each other again for some time. 

 

A handful of decades pass and there’s Noctis on a billboard advertising for menswear, regal even while half undressed. Ignis doesn’t manage to meet him, that time, but he wonders what that sort of life is like. He thinks, vaguely, that it couldn’t be worse than before (but he has no idea what  _ before  _ is and isn’t sure he even wants to think on it). 

 

The next time is in a coffee shop, Ignis’s shirt full of scalding espresso when Noctis catches sight of his face and trips directly into his chest. He apologizes and worries over Ignis’s body as if the coffee could prove to be a mortal wound. 

 

They exchange numbers, this time. 

 

A week later finds them on a date. A month together becomes a year, a marriage, a shared apartment and all the chaos that brings with it, and it becomes  _ love.  _

 

They grow old together. Ignis leaves first.

 

Noctis adopts a cat, a green eyed stray with a clipped ear, who sleeps on his lap when he’s sitting in his chair and lays beside him in bed. He disappears a day after Noctis passes away, collar left at his grave. The tag reads  _ Ebony.  _

 

They bounce between forms like others do food, one incarnation a faery and the next a farmer, and professions are no different. Ignis can’t forget the face of a black haired beauty smiling at him even while he pressed a gun to his head, promising that they’ll see each other plenty more. They’ve never met, he’s sure. 

 

Then, he gets a neighbor with the same face as that memory whose clothing is always coated in smears of oil paint. His name is Noctis and Ignis isn’t sure he’d ever forget it. 

 

Ignis moves out three months later and doesn’t forget Noctis one bit. Not even fifty years later when he’s nearing eighty and bedridden. 

 

He prays to meet again. The gods grant his wish. 

 

This time, he remembers Noctis completely from the start. Ignis begins to write so he can’t forget again. Noctis finds him in the spaces between the lines, where he waxes poetic about a man whose existence became Ignis’s whole world, and responds in kind. 

 

They write novels for the lover they cannot reach. 

 

Ignis’s words outlast him. They find him again when there’s a familiar voice singing from the stage of a midtown bar. When he glances over, Noctis smiles at him. 

 

They drink together and Ignis naps Noctis’s body with his hands and mouth and mind for what feels like the millionth time. He’s familiar and  _ perfect _ . 

 

Noctis marries a woman he doesn’t love a week later. Ignis waits for the next life. 

 

He likes this one, despite the looks it garners. He never thought of soulmarks, but here he is with a wash of indigo petals blooming over his eyes and down his neck. When he finds Noctis, all he can see is  _ blue  _ and then there are arms around his shoulders and lips on his and Noctis is  _ kissing _ him. 

 

Ignis doesn’t let the chance run away from him again. The world can crumble around them all over again, but he’ll care for Noctis. His King. His lover. His world. His star. 

 

When they’re old for the hundredth time, sitting side by side on the porch of a country house they’d made into a perfect home, Noctis says, “I love you.”

 

He’s said it before thousands if not  _ millions  _ of times, but it’s always so joyous to hear. Ignis leans over onto his shoulder and replies, “I love you, too.”

 

They say it millions more in future lives, hand in hand, heart for heart. 


End file.
